


two little Ducklings

by lostalongtthewayy



Series: whatever it takes [13]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, cs fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9213146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostalongtthewayy/pseuds/lostalongtthewayy
Summary: cs future fluff ---wintery fluff with the Swan-Jones fam :DD





	

**Author's Note:**

> happy happy (late) Christmas, happy new year, happy January, happy all y’all!! I’m still in a semi-hiatus due to being home and all the family business but here’s still this ball of fluff! You may have to squint a lot to find a plot, but oh well…. <3 <3 Thank you @csjanuaryjoy for putting this together! :)

_January 27  
_ _Storybrooke, Maine._

According to Storybrooke’s humble, _yet_ magically accurate weather advisory, the blizzard of the decade is supposedly hitting their little town in the next few days. So far winter has been oddly mild; the first snowfall of the year happening only a few days after the New Year. It’d even been beautiful; overnight the town was covered in fluffy white snow, hiding just about every inch of their little town behind the white blanket.

Winter in Storybrooke is certainly beautiful.

 _But_ , it is also worth dreading when your job is chasing after big bads despite the weather conditions. Last Emma heard, they are supposed to get at least three feet of snow over the weekend — _at least_.

She isn’t exactly looking forward to it — _although,_ there is always the chance that it gets cold enough that even the usual offenders will choose against their petty crimes and drunken misbehaves in turn of warm shelter.

Because of the blizzard, so as long as there is no _real_ emergency in Storybrooke, neither she, nor her father, are going to show their faces at the station for a few days. Emma can’t even pretend the idea of a couple of days of snuggles, movies and comfort food doesn’t appeal her.

Tonight as she gets off her car, the walkway up to their house is already particularly slushy. There is snow falling, but for now, it is still just a light shower that is melting before it even hits the ground.

Emma knows it’s only a matter of time before this changes though, and it’s almost a sure thing that tomorrow they’ll wake up to a more than picturesque white Storybrooke.

Eventually, once Emma finally walks in the house, she immediately feels relief. She shivers as she closes the door behind her. She can hear small voices coming from the kitchen, and almost instantly, a smile makes it to her face.

She steps out of her boots and shrugs off her coat hanging it on the rack by the door. She gets rid of her scarf and beanie as well, and relishes in the feel of finally being _home_. The house is warm and it smells an awful lot like cinnamon and other spices. Her mouth waters inevitably before she even makes it to the kitchen.

It’s a small moment later that she does and Estella’s little head lifting up to greet her is the first thing Emma sees.

“Hey mummy!” Estella grins in her usual cheery way.

They are all sitting around their kitchen table, Estella sitting between the boys, markers scattered everywhere as well as at least five of Estella’s coloring books around them.

Emma tilts her head and smiles. “Hello…” She lifts an eyebrow at Estella’s little face covered with everything from flour, dry up dough, and most definitely marker’s ink on her nose and cheeks. Her hair is messy, wild loose curls escaping the ponytail that isn’t quite holding anymore. Emma’s pretty sure Killian has been trying his best to control that hair of hers all day, but she _is_ her daughter, and some days that hair of theirs is simply impossibly wavy and out of control.

Today is certainly one of those days for Miss Estella Jones.

“Hey mom,”

“Hi kid,”

Henry is closer to her, so Emma greets him properly first, leaning closer to him and planting a kiss to his cheek. He gives a grunt that is more for show than actual annoyance so Emma smiles. Estella is sitting between Henry and Killian, so Emma goes to greet her little duckling next.

Estella’s up on her knees ready to offer Emma not just a kiss hello, but also a hug. Now it’s Emma who grunts when Estella squeezes her just a _little_ too tight. “Hey there little duck,” she whispers sweetly anyway, kissing Estella’s cheek. “You teaching the boys how to color nicely?”

Unhesitatingly, Estella nods her head. She looks over at her Daddy’s pages and then at Henry’s, before looking back over at Emma. “They need more practice,” she tells her seriously, and that’s all they _all_ need to start laughing.

Emma smiles fondly at Estella, before giving her just one more hug and continuing to give her hellos to Killian.

He’s smirking at her, shaking his head ever so slightly at Estella’s comment.

Emma meets his eyes, grinning goofily before she kisses that smirk off his face at once. “Hi,” she mumbles against his lips, and while Estella finds their PDA funny and giggles, Henry at the other end of the table again grunts.

Emma can see out of the corner of her eye the half smile he’s trying not to smile, so she chuckles and kisses Killian one more time before straightening up. She looks over at the table again and her heart feels so happy and full. Here she has both Killian and Henry, both grown men, one of them literally _centuries old,_ indulging Estella and her _never_ - _ending_ need to color _with them,_ without batting an eye.

And Emma knows they don’t mind. She knows they love spending time with the little one. They love every time she tells them their coloring is _pretty_ or how big her eyes get when they draw something _just for her_ and her entire day is made because of them.

Emma adores them.

All three of them.

And right this minute she falls in love with them all just a little more.

She puffs out a little breath and gives up trying not to smile. She tilts her head searching for Killian’s eyes, and it’s less than a beat later that he meets hers. “Nice job,” she tells him, and that smirk of his returns in instants.

“What is it about a rainbow assortment of washable markers? I do declare…”

Emma can’t help shaking her head at him playfully.

The countertop behind her however, is pretty much screaming her name at this point, so Emma shifts just enough to see the _three_ trays of freshly baked cookies already frosted and ready for her to gobble them up right there.

“You wanna color too?”

Emma scrunches up her face at that, turning toward Estella. “Mommy wants to _eat_ ,”

“You can’t have’em,” Estella singsongs as though she knows something Emma doesn’t.

“ _Yes,_ I can,” she tells the kid anyway.

Estella shakes her head decisively. “Daddy, tell her,” she says then, although her eyes stay on Emma and not Killian.

Emma shifts her eyes to him just enough to see a mortified look on his face. “What?”

“I’m afraid there’ll be no cookies until after dinner, love…”

“Nuh, uh,” Emma lets out immediately. “I’m the mom, that doesn’t apply to _me,_ Estella _…_ ”

“Yes it does,” Estella singsongs knowingly once more. “Right Daddy?”

“Afraid so, Swan,”

Emma frowns, staring at him, knowing well enough she can’t actually tell him to go fuck himself right now. She hopes her deadly stare gets the message across regardless though.

“So…” Estella breaks the silence, then. “Do you wanna color with us now?”

Emma pouts, shaking her head at Estella. “Not fair,” she says, but that’s all the complaining she’s going to allow. Promptly, Emma takes a seat across from Estella and Henry, and right next to Killian, and despite the deliciousness in front of her that she can’t touch _yet,_ she feels happy as can be.

/-/-/

The next morning, Killian wakes up first. It’s not unusual _, in the least_ , so as always he’s quiet getting up, allowing his Swan a few more moments of restful sleep.

As soon as he walks into the living room a while later, he finds their little kid knelt in front of the large front window.

“Morning Estella…”

“Hi,” she says not turning from the window. When Killian moves to stand behind her, she tilts her head back and looks up at him. “That’s a lotta snow Daddy,”

He’s looking at her softly, and can’t honestly keep the smile off his face if his life depended on it. “It is, Duckling,”

“So much,” she insists and he laughs.

Killian then just scoops Estella up in his arms, and brings her up close to his face. Estella is a wee one still, just about 6-years-old and to him, still light as a feather. Some mornings she still wakes up cranky and just in need of _several_ extra moments of quiet cuddling to get her started on her day. Some others mornings however, mornings like today when the world outside her window is so quiet and yet so magical and wonderful, she’s up completely ready to start her day.

Gently Killian rests his head against Estella’s and relishes in how perfectly this little girl still fits in his arms. “Are you going to ask me to go outside?”

Estella looks at him oh-so guiltily at the question. “Can I Daddy?” She asks him, then adds… “Just for a little while?”

Killian draws in a deep breath and pretends to really consider it for a moment.

“Please?” Estella says then, but her tone is less urgent now and instead a lot more playful. She already knows her Daddy is going to say yes, but she still needs him to _actually_ say the words.

“Fine fine, little duck,” he tells her at last, grinning at that little cheer that Estella lets out.

“I’m gonna get my snow clothes on Daddy!” Estella informs him immediately, as she squirms her way off his arms and rushes down the hall to the mudroom.

Killian winces then when he hears things from the racks just falling and crashing to the floor. He’s about to head to the mudroom as well when Estella just reappears in front of him.

“I can’t do it myself!” Estella tells him, letting out the sweetest laugh. “I need your help, Daddy!”

Killian laughs too, then nods and just follows his little love down the hall.

“You gotta be quiet though Daddy, mummy’s still sleeping…”

“Too right, Estella…” Killian indulges her because he just can’t help himself.

This little lass has had him wrapped around her finger from the very start, and he truly wouldn’t change it for anything in this world.

(or any world)

/-/-/

When Emma walks into the kitchen, she finds Killian right away. He’s at the stove, comfy pajama pants on and hair messy as he hums to some happy tune making breakfast.

By the smell of it, Emma guesses omelets and toast are in her future. There’s hot cocoa on that stove for sure as well, and she’s glad he knows her so well.

Rather quickly though, she notices their small, if loud and rambunctious, little girl isn’t anywhere in sight. It’s not _completely_ unheard of that she might have chosen to entertain herself while Daddy fixes breakfast, but it is still odd enough that Emma frowns a bit looking around the room.

She’s just about to ask where Estella is, when Killian’s voice comes first. He doesn’t even turn from the stove, simply speaks as he continues to chop veggies for their eggs. “She’s outside, love,” he says softly. It’s then he chooses to spare Emma a tiny look over his shoulder before returning his attention to the food. “She managed to convince me to let her play out back for twenty minutes,”

Emma relaxes and even smiles slightly at that. Killian probably didn’t even want her out in the cold but Estella has her ways to get her Dad to say _yes_ to her, and that is just a fact.

In the end, Emma simply hums as a reply and moves toward him. She wraps her arms around him from behind and rests her cheek on his back. They are quiet for a bit, she closes her eyes and takes in the moment.

“How long it’s been?” She whispers against his back.

Killian looks at her over his shoulder once more; Emma opens her eyes, tilting her head up just enough to see him. She grins and he simply regards her softly before replying. “Fourteen minutes,” he answers and then adds. “Give or take…”

Emma’s smile widens mischievously, knowing Estella has been out **_fourteen_** minutes, not thirteen or fifteen, but _exactly_ fourteen. She doesn’t know how exactly, but she knows he has a way to keep track of time perfectly in his head and if his agreement with Estella was twenty minutes of alone play in the snow, then he’s going to be retrieving their little girl from the cold as soon as those _twenty minutes_ are up.

“How long now?” She asks him then just to mess with him and is delighted to hear that low laugh he gives as he shakes his head.

“Fifteen minutes, _27seconds_ …” Killian can’t help answering with a slight grumble, knowing his reply will make her laugh.

Sure enough, her soft giggles come just a moment later and she tries to muffle them against his back.

It’s futile and he relishes in the sound of her laugh this early in the day.

“Do you want me to go get her?”

Killian doesn’t answer right away. He chops the last of the tomato he was working on and then turns to Emma once more. “Can you pick whatever cheese you want today? I’ll fetch Estella, then I’ll finish working on these after she’s indoors,” — _and warm,_ he leaves unsaid, but Emma hears it nonetheless

Emma shrugs anyway, dropping a kiss to his back just because and then finally letting go. “Suit yourself,” she says as she moves to the fridge. She spends a moment deciding on which cheese she’s feeling like it, and then by the time she turns to him once more, he’s setting down the knife he’s been using on the cutting table.

Emma guesses they are probably at least at minute _eighteen_ now.

She watches with a smile as Killian walks to the back doors and swiftly puts on the winter boots he’s left there prior. He peeks his head out and calls for Estella. However, instead of waiting for the kid to return on her own, he ventures out, calling for her once more.

Emma stays behind smiling. She shakes her head walking to the counter with her cheese and setting it on a cutting board to grate.

She busies herself with this for a few moments and while she’s not nearly as great at mental minute counting as Killian is, it’s not long after that she frowns noticing Killian and Estella aren’t back yet.

She doesn’t think much before putting down the grater and the cheese, and moving to the back doors. She opens the screen door and braves the freezing cold air sticking her head out in hopes to either see them or hear them.

She can’t manage either.

Instead, her frown deepens and before she can process it, she’s reaching for her jacket and rushing to the mudroom for some boots to head out.

Emma’s not out in their yard long before she spots them. She doesn’t stop frowning though. There in the far corner of their backyard, Emma sees both Estella and Killian crouch down. Killian is hovering over Estella but Emma can’t tell just what they’re doing.

“Hey, you two okay?” Emma asks, unable to keep the concern off her voice.

Estella jumps a little at her words and turns her head immediately. There are tears in her eyes that Emma doesn’t miss. “Mum!” She whines as Killian turns to her as well.

He’s looking uneasy and the _not knowing why_ , is starting to get to Emma more and more the longer she’s lost about what’s happening. She moves close to Estella, Killian still looking at her as Emma’s eyes finally find the source of their daughter’s seeming anguish.

“Oh, no,” Emma lets out immediately.

Estella whimpers at her words and turns, merely jumping into Emma’s arms.

Emma holds her tight on instinct and kisses her little head. She looks up at Killian who’s still looking just as affected as Estella and then back at the cause of their grief; there in the corner, half buried in the snow, two fluffy little things lay rather lifeless.

“It’s okay…” Emma coos at the kid, who’s now crying softly against her chest. It breaks Emma’s heart at once; Estella may not always show it _too_ openly, but her kid is a sensitive one and there’s no question two hurt little birds will get to her.

In any case, at her words, stubborn as ever, Estella shakes her head against her and grunts. “They’re dead, aren’t they? They are totally dead!” She cries, burying her face deeper in Emma’s chest. “I can’t look! I can’t even reach them!”

“Oh Estella,” Emma sighs, looking up to share a look with Killian. He doesn’t speak but she knows he thinks the couple birds (she hopes there aren’t more completely buried) are indeed dead. “Here Estella, how about you let mommy check? Maybe we can still help them…”

Estella is quiet; she doesn’t move for a beat or two before she finally does lift her head from Emma’s embrace, looking up at her sadly.

“We can’t just leave them there, right?”

“No,” Estella replies softly. She takes in a deep breath and after considering it for just another moment, she nods. “Okay…”

Emma nods as well, and slowly helps Estella off her. She reaches into the bank of snow hesitantly, it’s stupidly cold outside and of course she didn’t think to bring gloves.

Still, despite the cold she manages to get the first bird out with a bit of force from the frosty snow.

It’s not until Emma is holding it, that she realizes it is actually a tiny duckling and not a random bird. Its fur is mostly brownish, with bits of yellow near it’s face; probably a Mallard, but maybe even a wood duck. Momentarily, Emma wishes her mom were there so they could know for sure.

“Oh mum,” Estella cries then; she reaches for the duckling before Emma can have a say. She cradles the little thing in her equally small hands and brings it close to her chest. “Shush shush…” She coos for no reason whatsoever only wanting desperately to make the little bird better. Without thought, she uses her teeth to take off one of her gloves so that she can hold the baby bird easier. “You okay, you okay…” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay…”

Emma feels her heart sinking but then she just shakes her head and goes to grab the second little duck. That one is just as cold as the first one and just as with the first one, Estella doesn’t think twice before taking it from Emma.

“We gotta make them warm,” she says and Emma shares then yet another — _concerned—_ look with Killian.

He’s by now knelt down next to Estella as well, and has his eyes solely on his little girl’s uneasy face looking at those little ducklings. “Estella love,” he starts. “These two have been out here probably all night,”

Estella shakes her head at that, and stands up before Killian —or Emma— have another chance to say anything else.

It’s not the easiest thing to walk in her snow puffy clothes while at the same time holding oh, so carefully onto those two birds, but somehow Estella manages.

Before either has a chance to put a word in, Estella is already walking in the direction of the house and the two of them are just staring at one another.

“I suppose we can help her make them warm, no?”

Emma sighs, accepting Killian’s hand as he helps her to her feet. She looks over at him and sadly nods. “She’s going to be crushed once she does and realizes those two really are…well…”

“Aye…” he agrees knowing already what she means without her having to finish that sentence. “Still…”

“Yeah,” Emma nods, smiling softly up at him. “We can still help her…” And with that they resume their walk to the house.

However, they aren’t even all the way back in, before a definite strange sound sends them turning to each other in confusion — _again_. “Are those…?” Killian’s question trails off as a series of _‘peep peep peeps’_ cut him off.

Emma narrows her eyes but Killian can see the start of a smile as she takes off her boots and rushes inside the house.

He follows Emma to the living room only to find Estella crouch down in front of the fireplace, her back to them. They both walk toward her, kneeling down at each side of her, looking over at the small ducks cradled in her arms.

“I made’em warm,” Estella grins oh so widely turning first to Emma and then immediately to Killian. “You think they are okay?” She asks with a sea of hope in her voice.

Killian takes another look at the ducks and then at Estella. “It appears so little love,” he tells his daughter with a small, unsure smile.

Sure enough, the ducklings continue to peep in Estella’s arms as the little girl’s smile widens even more as she brings her eyes back down to them.

They all watch the small, oddly _alive_ ducklings for about a minute or so before Emma taps Estella’s shoulder slightly. Estella is still grinning madly when their eyes lock. Without thinking, Emma matches her daughter’s smile as she tucks a little wavy strand of hair behind her ear. “What did you do, huh?”

“I made them warm!” Estella repeats; her tone proud and steady this time. She chins up a little before crinkling her eyes and chuckling. “I _knew_ they had to be okay!”

Emma nods, simply unable not to get caught up in her daughter’s joyfulness.

“Did you just bring them close to the heat love?” Killian asks her softly then, Estella’s head shifting to him at the question.

She huffs out a breath and laughs. “No silly,” she tells him with a playful roll of her eyes. “I used my _magic!_ ” she tells him, stressing the word playfully.

Killian’s eyes widen slightly and he clearly sees the way Emma’s do too.

“They were _too_ cold, Daddy,” Estella continues. “They felt like little icicles, I had to help them quickly!”

“Of course,” he says, completely unable not to give his daughter all the credit right now. He’s feeling awfully proud right now but he’s also very curious as to what exactly she did.

And sure enough, Emma is certainly asking herself the same questions because just as he’s about to form more questions for Estella, Emma beats him to it. “You used your _magic_?”

“Mmhmm,” Estella nods. “I made them all warm and better!”

“And better,” Emma echoes, before just sighing and smiling at her little girl. “You’re pretty great, you know?”

And of course at her words Estella beams. “I know that!” She says chuckling before bringing her attention back to her ducklings. “You guys are pretty great too!” She adds then making them all laugh softly.

Emma looks over and Killian and they share a look of awe at their kid. They’ve always known just how very special she is, but actually _seeing it_ is pretty incredible too.

“Mum?”

“Yes?” Emma says turning from Killian, still smiling.

Estella matches their smile, her chest puffing out proudly. “These two are mine to keep now, right?”

/-/-/

Now, neither Killian nor Emma are exactly the kind of parents that can’t say no to her children; they most most certainly can. Every day Emma makes a big deal of showing her kids she loves them, but at the same time, she knows letting them do as they please isn’t exactly the best idea either.

Still, when her daughter pretty much performs a small miracle of her own, and then afterwards gets attached to the couple little creatures she single handedly healed and has been nursing back to health ever since, then it truly takes all Emma has to say no to said daughter’s requests.

So she doesn’t.

It’s February 5th, and Emma Swan oh so easily agrees to allow her kid to officially keep her now _pet_ Ducklings.

Is not like something can _really_ go wrong from _this_ decision, right?

x

And at first nothing _bad_ really comes from it. It’s even truly amusing to have the little ducklings around. It’s the day before Valentine’s Day and Emma comes home to find her daughter (and Buttercup and Westley as she oh so lovingly named her ducklings) playing in the sunroom.

Emma doesn’t think any of it until she walks in to greet her kid and it’s then she takes a look of the ducklings.

Estella is on the floor with them, looking up at Emma with a grin that very well could break her little face.

Westley, the dirty blonde, more brown-ish duckling, the one Estella deems as a _boy duckling,_ is looking rather dashing wearing both a black paper cupcake cup as a bottom, _and_ a teeny tiny black bow tie around his neck.

Buttercup on the other hand, the blond-ish duckling that Estella is _positive_ is a _girl duckling,_ is looking just as fashionable wearing an equally precious yellow and white paper cupcake cup as a dress.

The ducklings are peeping away as always, so Emma doesn’t think they are particularly bothered by Estella’s antics.

“Don’t they look fancy mum?”

Estella’s overly adorable little voice breaking Emma from her thoughts comes then. She turns to her kid and it’s all it takes to have her grinning wider than before. “Oh they do kid,” she admits. “They look impressive,” she says indulging Estella, yet not really lying at her; her ducklings most certainly look _incredible_ right now.

“Daddy helped me…”

“What?!” Emma’s voice comes high pitched and silly and Estella can’t help laughing at that face her mum is making.

She smiles cheekily, her eyes crinkling at the edges in that precious way that reminds Emma of Killian every single time. “Mmhmm!” She says happily. “It was my idea, but Daddy helped me lots!”

“How did—how did Daddy help you, huh?”

“Oh,” Estella says. “He helped me with the scissors mum!” She tells Emma excitedly. “Those are a bit hard to use, you know? And we needed to make holes in the cupcake liners to get them in them…”

“Oh Estella, I love you…” Emma smiles and reaches to hug her. “What’s the occasion huh?”

Estella looks up at Emma, her smile sweet and excited. “Well,” she starts. “Daddy says since Buttercup and Wes are brother and sister they can’t get married.”

Emma nods at that. “Daddy’s right.”

“Yeah,” Estella agrees, although she does roll her eyes a little. She’s still smiling though. “Well, then we thought we still needed to have a celebration of sorts, _so…_ guess what?”

“What’s that?”

“I’m making them royalty mummy!”

“Um?” Emma asks and Estella burst out laughing at her for some reason.

“Mum!” She whines playfully. “I’m a princess, you know?”

“ _I know_ ,” Emma tells her, faking silly annoyance.

Estella snickers. “Daddy says I have the ‘thority to celebrate them and make Buttercup a princess and Wes a prince too…”

“Hmm…” Emma considers her words playfully for a bit, before she just smiles and nods. “Well…” She says, and it takes all she has not to smile at Estella’s nervous, yet excited little face. “Do you think mommy can be invited to their coronation?”

“Mum!” Estella whines, but she laughs then too as Emma pulls her back into her arms and kisses her head. “You can be the guest of honor, okay?“

“Okay ducky,” Emma replies softly. “Thank you,”

Estella takes in a breath and nods her head. “You’re welcome…”

/-/-/

For a few more weeks, everything with the Ducklings and Estella seems to be going… _well._ It isn’t the most normal thing to walk out of her room and watch Estella walking down the hallways with two little Ducklings peeping behind her, following her _everywhere,_ but it’s not such a terrible thing either

The ducklings don’t go to school with her, but as soon as Estella comes back from school, they are first to greet the kid and stick to her for the rest of day — and night, until it is time for Estella to head off to school once more.

It is one week night, while trying to make dinner with Killian that it hits Emma. Estella is working on her homework in the kitchen; Ducklings close to her under the table. Emma is chopping veggies, while Killian is prepping the chicken, when Estella needs to use the bathroom and excuses herself. Apparently she goes without her little ducklings noticing and Emma gets to see the moment the Ducklings do notice Estella is gone and proceed to pretty much freak out.

They start walking clumsily, bumping into each other, desperate moving around the room. Emma guesses they are looking for Estella but for that moment, she just watches them. When the sound from the toilet flushing comes, the Ducklings take notice rushing that way at once.

It’s only a moment later Estella comes back into the room, ducklings in tow in perfect harmony behind her.

Killian chuckles when he sees it, but then quickly goes back to his chicken. Emma on the other hand, keeps on watching her kid and the Ducklings; Estella sits back at the table, picks up her pencil again, and goes back to her work easily. The Ducklings on their part, completely settled and peeping quietly, move to be just by her feet once more. Estella’s little socked feet are bouncing back and forth, every once in a while knocking one of the ducklings or both of them. While Emma would think that would bother them, the reality is that they seem to get excited every time it happens

And it’s then when it hits her.

Naturally, she reaches over to Killian and slaps his chest.

“Hey!” He cries, turning away from his chicken.

“Killian!” Emma hushed whisper comes, ignoring his alleged _pain._

He rolls his eyes but still gives her his prompt attention. “Aye, what?”

“They think she’s their mom!”

“What?” He asks her back confused. “What are you talking about?”

Emma again slaps his chest then making him playfully cry out. “HEY! Stop that!”

“Killian! They think she’s their mom!” Emma repeats, this time pointing at Estella and the Ducklings under the table.

Killian’s head tilts as he watches over at his daughter and her ducklings. His hand goes to scratch at his head and he smirks when Emma looks back his way. “Does that mean we’re _grandparents_ now, love?”

“UGH!” She cries, and this time she actually uses a good deal of force when she slaps his chest— _again._

_“HEY!”_

Emma’s the one smirking then when their eyes lock.

/-/-/

One afternoon a few weeks later, her mother comes to the station out of nowhere. Despite everything, Emma immediately thinks something is wrong. Things in Storybrooke area lot less chaotic and crazy now than they’ve been years ago, but she still isn’t shocked any time something completely bonkers happens.

Still, while what her mom comes to tell her isn’t exactly good news, it isn’t still the kind of crisis Emma had had in mind when her mom walked in her office.

For her daughter however, it’ll likely be the worst kind of crisis though.

x

It’s mid-March when Mary Margaret finds who she thinks are Estella’s ducklings’ family. She tells Emma that day at the station, Emma tells Killian, and the two of them tell Estella.

There are tears, there are hugs, there are pleads to let her keep them.

Estella is sad (devastated really); she’s grown to _love_ her little ducklings so much and she just has to give them up now?

It’s a hard thing to explain her the best thing she can do for her Ducklings is give them up, but Emma and Killian still try. In the end, they all decide to go with Mary Margaret to find the mama duck and all the other ducklings. It’s a pond awfully close to their place. Estella is used to play there all the time during the summer but as they approach it this time, they all can tell she’s dreading it; she’s walking slowly, her shoulders hunched, her sad little eyes and head down, and the tears just threatening to fall at any time.

It’s equally devastating to see their daughter this sad, but this is something they’ve all agreed is the best thing to do so that’s why they are here.

Once they are just a few steps from the edge of the pond, and yes, mostly definitely a family of ducks and ducklings about the same size as Estella’s ducklings, they all stop walking and Mary Margaret kneels down in front of Estella. “There is something you should know, sweetheart,” she says. “If it hadn’t been for you, these little guys wouldn’t have survived. _You_ saved them, Estella,” she tells the child, with a soft smile on her face. “And now, well, now you are going to reunite them with their family…”

Estella is at the verge of tears, fighting them so much it’s breaking Emma’s heart —literally breaking it, she can already feel tears of her own in her eyes. She steps forward then, kneeling in front of Estella as well, using her hand on the kid’s shoulder turning her. “Grandma is right, you know?”

Estella nods, sadly.

“Think how much their mommy must miss them?” Emma asks Estella, she gives her a knowing smile and an encouraging nod. “If it was me, I’d be completely heartbroken if I never got to see _my_ little duckling ever again…”

Estella cracks the smallest of smiles at that but she’s still sad, her little face falls only a few seconds later.

“You’re going to miss them a lot, you know? You’re going to be a bit sad for a little while, and that’s okay. I’ll remind you what a brave little girl you are. How you nursed those little babies to health and how _you_ ducky, are the reason these baby ducklings are back together with their mommy and their brothers and sisters…”

“I’m going to miss them a lot, mummy…”

“I know…” Emma agrees simply. “Me too, Ducky,”

Estella sighs deeply, looking at the baby ducklings peeping in the little pouch she’s using to carry them. She kisses them, one by one, softly on the head. Then, when she looks up, determination is all over her tiny features.

It fills Emma up with so much pride she finds herself fighting tears of her own one more time for some reason.

“Okay Grandma,” Estella says, filling up her lungs with a fresh intake of air.

Mary Margaret walks next to Estella and holds the little girl’s hand. Killian helps Emma to her feet and wraps his arms around her as they watch Mary Margaret and Estella walk to the where the Mama Duck is.

They approach the ducks slowly, without realizing it, Emma tenses in Killian’s arms, holding her breath — _and tears_ — as Estella and Mary Margaret kneel on the floor in front of the ducks.

Her mom thought ahead and brought some food to attract the ducks and oh so slowly she starts feeding them.

Her little girl is all but surrounded by all the other little ducks in seconds. It’s then when she turns, looking Emma’s way.

Emma holds onto Killian a bit tighter before smiling at Estella and offering an encouraging nod of her head.

And that is all Estella needs before reaching into her pouch and slowly lifting the first duckling out.

It is Buttercup, Emma can tell. Once more Estella kisses the duckling, says something to it, and then gently puts him on the floor next to the others.

She watches the little duckling peep away to the others, for all of a minute, before reaching into her pouch one more time —one last time.

She repeats the routine, kissing Wes this time, and most likely saying some farewells words to _her_ little duckling.

Emma can see Estella taking a big deep breath before setting the second duckling on the floor.

Her little lip is trembling and Emma notes so is hers. Mary Margaret reaches to hug Estella, and Emma inwardly thanks her.

At the same time, Killian holds _her_ tighter, and for one reason or the other, her very own damn dam breaks and she starts crying —then quickly it turns to sobbing. She’s not being loud, the sobs just shaking her body as some tears fall.

She buries her face in Killian’s chest, lets him be her rock as she falls apart without complete certainty as to why.

If Killian’s thrown off by her, and whatever this outburst is, he doesn’t say or lets on for that matter.

A few moments go by before Emma feels his lips pressing to her hair. She wipes at her eyes and shyly looks up at him.

She knows he has something at the tip of his tongue, but what she has to say it’s more important so she rushes to say it first.

“I think Estella may just be able to keep one little duckling at home, after all…”

Killian is clueless at her words; _completely_. But thankfully, he is a lot less so, later that same evening after they — _Emma_ — take three at home pregnancy tests.

They all come back positive of course —sudden crying fits a definite sign for her—, and sure enough, less than eight months later, November 6, at 8:15am of course, their newest baby duckling joins their family.

He’s loud and pink, squishy and fragile. Certainly, their love for him knows absolutely no bounds as soon as they meet him.

Estella climbs in the bed by Emma when her Grandpa brings her to the hospital. She’s quiet, unsure as her mummy holds her with one arm, and then her Daddy places a sleeping little baby on the other.

He’s wrapped up in a blanket, like a little burrito, with his head clad in a white little hat Estella helped choose a few months ago. There’s one lone yellow duckling sitting on one side of the hat and that had been her favorite part

After a moment, she finally braves a finger, inching it closer to the babe. Estella looks up at her mom and when she nods, she goes ahead and touches the baby’s cheek gently.

It’s soft, and when the baby doesn’t stir, Estella does it again, this time running her little finger up and down his soft cheek.

Estella breathes out then at last…deeply, relaxing in Emma’s embrace at last.

Emma smiles; can’t possibly help it and when she looks over at Killian, he’s smiling impossibly wide as well. His eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and so are Emma’s.

Their eyes simultaneously shift back to their children in that moment; Estella speaks before they can though. Her voice soft, soothing.

“Hi there little duckling,” she says. “I’m your big sister…”

Emma reacts first; a watery chuckle escapes her as unimaginable amounts of love for her family fill her.

She kisses Estella’s cheek, smiling —more so idiotically grinning, when Killian follows suit and with a watery chuckle of his own, moves to kiss the top of Estella’s head.

He shares a kiss with Emma as well, soft, happy, and then he moves cupping the little — _so little_ — head of the newest addition to their family.

Killian drops the softest of kisses to his son’s forehead.

He locks eyes with Emma immediately after; Estella’s head resting on her chest as she continues to study the baby —her brother.

“Two little ducklings, love…” he says, then stresses. “ _Two…”_

Emma’s heart is so impossibly full, she knows she’ll end up crying — _happy tears—_ yet still tears, if she tries to speak.

So she doesn’t.

She simply nods at Killian; her smile huge, completely happy in spite of the exhaustion, and physical aches in her body.

Right now, all she cares about are the two little humans in her arms…

Her very own _two little ducklings_ , alright…

                                                      _FIN_


End file.
